“Harry ran upstairs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy — he didn’t feel much like singing.”

“There was no anger in his voice, no disappointment even. It was as if he'd given up on me. He pulled his keys out of his pocket. "I should be going now. Merry Christmas, Nick”

“Travis ran his hand over the stubble on his scalp, shaking his head. “He didn’t get out,” he whispered. “He didn’t get out, Pidge.”My breath caught as I watched the soot on his cheeks streak with his tears. He fell to his knees and I fell with him.“Trent’s smart, Trav. He got out. He had to have found a different way,” I said, trying to convince myself as well.Travis collapsed into my lap, gripping my shirt with both fists. I held him. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Well, here goes," said Harry, and he raised the little bottle and took a carefully measured gulp."What does it feel like?" whispered Hermione.Harry did not answer for a moment. Then, slowly but surely, an exhilarating sense of infinite opportunity stole through him; he felt as though he could have done anything, anything at all...and getting the memory from Slughorn seemed suddenly not only possible, but positively easy....He got to his feet, smiling, brimming with confidence."Excellent," he said. "Really excellent. Right...I'm going down to Hagrid's.""What?" said Ron and Hermione together, looking aghast. "No, Harry - you've got to go and see Slughorn, remember?" said Hermione."No," said Harry confidently. "I'm going to Hagrid's, I've got a good feeling about going to Hagrid's.""You've got a good feeling about burying a giant spider?" asked Ron, looking stunned."Yeah," said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. "I feel like it's the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?" "No," said Ron and Hermione together, both looking positively alarmed now."This is Felix Felicis, I suppose?" said Hermione anxiously, holding up the bottle to the light. "You haven't got another little bottle full - I don't know -""Essence of Insanity?" suggested Ron, as Harry swung his cloak over his shoulders.”

“... I tried to glare at him but I felt terrible and I’m sure I didn’t pull it off. He was handsome, which irked me. His hair and eyes were dark and he couldn’t be more than forty five. If this was Harry Potter, he’d definitely be in Slytherin.”

“Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. And Harry felt, as he had felt about phoenix song before, that the music was inside him, not without: It was his own grief turned magically to song..”